


Breaking of the She-Devil

by silverwolf_fox



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst, Cutting, Depression, Family, Feels, Gen, Origin Story, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 07:09:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14350464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverwolf_fox/pseuds/silverwolf_fox
Summary: Mira knew she had to remain strong. As she tries to be there for Elfman after Lisanna's death, it's she that is slowly fading away inside. But she can pretend. Pretend to smile and pretend to be okay as she presses that blade into her skin each night, watching the blood flow. A story of how Mirajane went from a She-Devil to a kind barmaid.





	Breaking of the She-Devil

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve really been into darker themed stories lately.  
> This story’s beta reader was the lovely C.K  
> Tragedy has a way of changing people, but there’s no way Mirajane had that 180 personality flip overnight. So here is my take on how she went from a She-Devil to an angel.

 

**** The silence was deafening. It absorbed every sound and left nothing but the blood pounding in my ears. I didn’t hear her trying to calm the beast that our brother had become. Didn’t hear his roar as he swiped her into a boulder. All I felt was a gust of wind, tossing my silver locks. My wide blue eyes refused to close, forcing me to watch as her lithe form slammed into the rock with a sickening crunch.

Again I saw it. The swiping claws. A body flying through the air faster than I could see. The crack as she hit stone and the resulting thud when her body dropped to the ground.

And again. And again. It replayed before me, continuously torturing me with the image of my sister dying.

“Lisanna. LISANNA!”

* * *

I woke in a cold sweat gasping for air. My clammy hands clutched at my chest as I struggled to breathe. Never had the shadows of my bedroom felt so suffocating. My knees curled up to my chest, and I looked over to see that the clock read 3:22am. I swiped the back of my hand against my sweaty forehead and shuddered a breath before tossing the covers aside. 

A shudder ran up my spine when my bare feet touched down on the icy wooden floor. I swallowed, feeling the dryness of my mouth, and straightened the gray pajama shorts that had gotten twisted around during my nightmare. My footsteps were a soft patter as I ran a hand along the wall to feel my way to the kitchen of the apartment I shared with my brother. Light from the refrigerator spilled into the room, and I flinched when the sudden brightness hit my eyes. Squinting, I reached in and pulled out a bottle of water, downing it quickly in large gulps. My tongue cleaned a few stray drops off my lips, and I breathed heavily at the relief of feeling the cold water settle in my stomach. I crushed the bottle in a fist and tossed it in the trash, simultaneously kicking the fridge door shut. I was going to go back to bed but paused in front of my little brother’s room. Quietly opening the door, I saw a large lump curled up on the bed.

“Elfman?” I whispered. “You awake?” There was no answer, but there was the tiniest movement of shaking shoulders. A small sob. I gritted my teeth against the tears building in my eyes. The door closed behind me as I walked over and crawled into his bed. Elfman didn’t acknowledge me, simply allowing me to hug him from behind.

* * *

Elfman and I shared a bed every night for a week after Lisanna died. He would cry, blaming himself, and I would silently cradle him and be his rock. Like any good sister, I wouldn’t blame him. I couldn’t. He didn’t mean to. At least, that’s how I wish I felt. I wouldn’t tell him. I would never tell anyone, but there’s a place deep inside myself...a place I hate because in it I harbor some resentment towards him.

I hate that I feel that way.

I love my brother.

He shifted in my arms, knocking some of the covers away. I swiftly pull them back up over our shoulders before tightening my hold on my brother.

“I love you, Elfman,” I whispered.

* * *

After a week of mourning in bed, it was clear that we had to return to the guild. At the very least we needed to earn some money on a job. I slipped out of the warm covers, leaving Elfman to curl up alone, and went into the kitchen to make breakfast. Neither of us had eaten much this week, and it was starting to show.

I opened the window blinds to let the morning light stream into the apartment before pulling out a couple of scratched up skillets from the cupboard. Within minutes the smell of eggs, bacon, and pancakes filled our home and, soon after, Elfman was following his nose out of his room.

We were both silent as I piled up our plates and set them on the table. As we ate, I observed my brother’s face. Heavy shadows rested beneath his eyes, his cheeks a little gaunt, and I knew that if I looked in the mirror, then I would look the exact same.

“We need to go to the guild today,” I said quietly. He didn’t reply, but I saw the smallest nod as he avoided my gaze. “Elfman.” He hesitantly met my gaze. “We’ll be okay.”

His face softened slightly. Maybe that’s what he needed to hear. He’d always been a gentle soul. He needs me to be strong. For him.

We ate slowly until we couldn’t procrastinate anymore. After the dishes were cleaned and put away, we both got ready to leave. I pulled on my black shorts and a black halter top and went to meet my brother at the door. It was a short walk to the guild but a quiet one. All the citizens of Magnolia were up and about, enjoying their day, unaware of the tragedy that befallen the two siblings walking through the streets.

The guild building stood high and proud, and we hesitated in front of the large doors. I glanced over at Elfman and frowned at how obviously uncomfortable he felt. My hand reached out and grabbed his. He looked at me, trying to give a small smile. I squeezed his hand and led us inside.

For the first time I could recall, the guild was utterly silent when we opened the door.

All those pity filled eyes were staring at us. The tension in the air was palpable as no one wanted draw attention to the elephant in the room but everyone felt too awkward to break the silence. I hated it. I led Elfman over to a table and sat him down before I went to the Request Board to find a job for the two of us to do. Soft chatter returned, but anyone who knew Fairy Tail would know that it couldn’t last.

Much to nobody’s surprise it was Natsu and Gray that began arguing. Then they began fighting. Then, one by one, the entire guild joined the brawl. I did my best to ignore them, analyzing the available jobs and immediately passing over any that involved giant monsters. That’s when something that felt like a chair slammed into my back, forcing me forward so that my forehead slammed into the board. The silence that followed made a mockery of the one when we walked in. This time, not a single breath was made. As I pulled my head away from the cracked Request Board, I felt a trickle of blood fall from my temple.

My gaze swept over my guildmates, eyes narrowed from the throbbing headache I now possessed. They were all awaiting the fury of the demon. The same fury I was expecting to feel, which left me shocked when I felt nothing but my own irritation. Each moment of every day, I could always feel my Satan Soul crawling just beneath my skin, but it wasn’t there. I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes, searching for the demon that lived within my heart.

I felt nothing.

Lifting up my arm in front of me, I stared at it with wide eyes. I willed it to transform into a terrifying demon arm, but it remained human. I could feel the heavy gazes of those waiting for my reaction, but all I could focus on was the pale flesh that seemed to mock me.  _ You’re weak, _ it said.  _ You don’t deserve the power of a demon. You’re no she-demon. _ I clenched my first, and my whole body began to shake. Breathing became difficult.

_ Am I actually starting to have a panic attack? _ I had to get out of here. Sweeping my eyes over the worried faces of my comrades, the last one to hold my gaze was Master Makarov.

His hard stare told me that he knew something was wrong.

I ran. I ran all the way home, leaving behind Elfman and all the questions. My feet pounded against the street in my hurry to get to a safe place where no one could see my weakness. Citizens stared after me until I was finally able to slam the door behind me. I fell back against it, a frail human hand pressed against my face with tears and blood slipping through my fingers. Pulling the appendage away, I looked at the clear and red fluids mixing together.

Utterly quiet, I made myself slowly walk into the bathroom. When I looked in the mirror, I flinched. The wound itself was minor, just a small cut on my forehead, but it infuriated me. I could feel my blood boiling, though it still lacked the darkness of my Satan Soul. My eyes took in every inch of my face, from my disheveled silver hair to the blood smeared around the dark shadows under my eyes.

Pathetic. Weak. Useless.

“You’re nothing!” I screamed at my reflection, eyes widening in fury as my fist struck out. I heard the shattering of the mirror before I felt the sting of the shards cutting into my hand. “Nothing!” I punched the mirror again, feeling even more sharp pieces jab into my knuckles. Tears streaked down my cheeks, and blood dripped from my fingers to pool on the pale gray counter. My fist pulled back but just before I could let it fly again, a large tanned hand grabbed my elbow. In a whispered sob, I hissed, “I’m nothing,” as Elfman wrapped his thick arms around me, clutching me to his chest.

“Don’t say that, Big Sis,” he said. We stood there until he could no longer ignore the red that stained my skin. “Let’s clean you up, okay?” Elfman gently lifted me up and sat me down on the toilet seat. The first thing he did was leave the bathroom and return with a dustpan. After sweeping up the larger shards, he went to throw them away, and then brought in their small vacuum cleaner.

Within minutes Elfman had cleaned up all of the shattered mirror pieces. He pulled the first aid kit out of the cabinet and set it on the counter. As he sorted out the various things he’d need, he glanced over at me.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s nothing,” I replied flatly, turning away my gaze. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him flinch at my use of the word that I had only minutes before used to refer to myself. I could tell he wanted to speak again, but one look had him shutting his mouth. With only a sigh in response, Elfman gingerly picked up my injured hand and began disinfecting it. Even though it stung, I appreciated it, because physical pain was a lot easier to deal with than the throbbing in my heart.

Elfman finished with the disinfectant and checked to make sure that he hadn’t missed a piece of glass within the cuts that littered my fingers and knuckles. I took a quick glance and saw a purplish bruise forming. He wrapped a bandage around the wound, but when he finished he just held onto my hand.

“We don’t have to go back to the guild just yet, Mira,” he said. “You don’t have to push yourself.” Tears built in my eyes, which were already sore from crying so much, and he brought me into his arms. I know he meant it as a comfort, but it only made me feel that much more pathetic.

I was the big sister.

I was the one who was supposed to be strong.

I want to be there to help Elfman, yet I can’t even help myself.

* * *

I was on my back staring up at an empty ceiling. My brother and I had spent the rest of the day curled up together on the couch engaging in mindless chatter. When I convinced him it was time for bed, I also promised that we could try the guild again tomorrow.

The silence was deafening. I reached my hand up high above me. Elfman had asked what had caused me to freak out, but I wasn’t able to bring myself to tell him that my devil magic isn’t working. That throbbing in my chest is back. My fingers closed and clenched into a fist, sending a jolt of pain down my arm.

It helped a little, but it wasn’t enough.

My arm fell back to my bed with a thump. The throbbing was back. I slipped off my bed and strolled into the bathroom, my bare feet helping me to stay quiet as to not wake Elfman. Large chunks of the mirror were gone after my earlier burst of anger. In a mindless haze, I dug through the drawers and cabinets until I found a pack of razors.

I just wanted this throbbing pressure to go away.

Gripping the edges of one, I broke it open to free the sharp blades. I picked up the shining metal between two fingers. I knew that I shouldn’t. Elfman wouldn’t want me to. That thought made me hesitate and start to put the blade down. Then my heart throbbed painfully.  _ I should have protected you, Lisanna _ , I thought, lifting up the bottom of the tank top I had worn to bed. It was quick and far easier than it should have been. The thin cut was just at the bottom of my left ribcage and a pearl of blood gathered at one end. As that red slowly slid down my skin, it felt as though my inner pain was seeping out with it. My hand shook as I released a relieved sigh. I made another incision just below the first, then another below that. Watching the blood flow down from that neat column of cuts soothed me, and my eyes rolled upwards at the pleasure I felt as I sacrificed my blood to ward away my suffering.

An oblation to appease my guilt.

* * *

The guild was far easier over the next few days. Although I still couldn’t sense my She-Devil, the slight pulling at the healing cuts on my stomach helped to sooth me. When I thought of them, I tugged down on the t-shirt I was wearing in order to make sure they were hidden. Each night I have taken that razor blade to my flesh; multiple cuts now covered my belly.

Since my new ritual allowed me to sleep better, the shadows were slowly fading from under my eyes, and I was able to play normal for the other guild members. At the very least it seemed to comfort Elfman. The two of us were seated by the wall, eating some lunch. We were slowly spending more time each day at the guild, and our friends were beginning to lose the looks of pity when they saw us. The delicious smell of the beef stew I was eating wafted into my nose and made my stomach grumble, even though I knew that I could do better.

On the other side of the guild hall, I could hear that annoying Erza breaking up another fight between Gray and Natsu. Their yells quieted, leaving rather tame chatter amongst the older members, but I knew that it would never last. This was proven when someone was thrown into me, forcing my head down into my hot bowl of stew. I felt the weight on my back get up before I lifted up my head, bits of meats and potatoes and juices dripping off the end of my nose to splatter onto the table.

My brow twitched, my teeth gritted, and I felt my face slightly burning. I twisted in my seat to yell at what had to have been the fire dragon slayer or the ice make wizard, but immediately felt the pull of my wounds. They were shallow enough that I hadn’t felt the need to bandage them after cleaning them, which means I quickly felt the warm liquid now making my shirt stick to my belly.  _ Crap _ , I thought, jumping out of my seat. I could feel Elfman staring after me as I ran to the guild’s bathroom.

The door swung shut behind me, and I checked to make sure that all the stalls were empty. A nervous sweat broke out on my forehead as I walked over to one of the sinks to see myself in the mirror. Thankfully the growing wet spot was difficult to make out amongst my black shirt.

A knock distracted me.

“I’m fine!” I snarled, lifting up the edge of my t-shirt.

Another knock.

“Mira, are you okay?” Elfman. My eyes widened, and I felt a little guilt that it was him I just yelled at. Without responding, I took a quick look at my cuts. Only three of them higher up near my ribs had reopened. Straightening my shirt, I took a quick check in the mirror, ignoring the pallid look the fluorescent lights gave my face. Taking a deep breath, I started walking to the door. My arm swept across my forehead to wipe away the sweat, and I forced a smile to my face before cracking open the door to see a worried Elfman.

“Hey, Elf. I’m alright,” I said, struggling to keep the corners of my lips turned up.

“You’re sure?” It made me sad to hear the pain in his voice. I hated to have him worry about me, so I forced as much into my smile as I could and nodded.

“I’ll be out in just a second. Promise.” His face softened only slightly as I closed the door between us. My mouth instantly dropped into a frown, and my hands began to shake. That damn ache in my chest was back. I was just so annoyed at those that had been fighting and now I’m causing my brother to hurt again. It’s like I couldn’t do anything right anymore!

I stalked to the sink and splashed cold water on my face, partly to calm me down and also to clean off the sticky stew that my face had been shoved into. My whole body was trembling with the effort to not scream at the emotions building up inside me. Pulling several paper towels from the dispenser to staunch the soft trickle of blood, I then wet one and cleaned off the hardened, dark red remains. 

When I forced myself to leave the sanctity of the bathroom, I saw that Elfman was leaning against the wall waiting for me. I stitched on another smile when he raised a curious brow.

“Woman problems,” I offered, knowing it’d make him back down and was proven right when a red blush swam into his cheeks. I snickered and patted his cheek. “I gotta run home real quick, but I’ll be back soon. Okay?”

My little brother nodded and avoided direct eye contact with me from his embarrassment. As we walked back into the main room, my back went rigid as my earlier stress came back. I waved to Elfman and forced myself to calmly stroll out of the guild, deftly avoiding the debris and broken chairs from the ongoing sparring match. Once the heavy doors closed behind me, I began running through the streets. Blood was pounding through my veins. Pressure building in my chest pushed me faster. I barely recognized the front door shutting behind me in my rush to get to my room.

I yanked off my shirt, tossing it to the floor, and sought out my peace giver that I kept hidden in an envelope underneath the corner of my mattress. Grabbing it and quickly moving to the bathroom, I shook the blade out of the envelope. It hit the counter with a soft clatter that rang inside my mind. As I usually did, I grabbed the bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the cabinet and poured some on the razor blade. The shiver running up my spine was shaking my hand. My breath quickened, and I started making the swift but shallow cuts. Something came over me, so I just kept cutting and by the time I looked down my stomach and sides were ravaged by bleeding slices, some of which must have been deeper based on the larger amount of blood that was seeping down to soak into the top of my shorts.

Why was I still shaking? Why did it still hurt? 

I blinked tears from my eyes and tore my black shorts off before I allowed the sharp metal to carve into my upper thighs. The sting of the previously unmarred flesh had an added sense of relief, and I felt the tremors wracking my body begin to mellow out. I was able to take deeper breathes once relief replaced that horrible pressure. I leaned against the door and slowly slid down, feeling the pull on my fresh wounds, until I was sitting on the cold tiled floor. 

I felt so relaxed now. I lifted up the blood stained blade and turned it to glint the light off of the shiny surface.

I hated that my lips curled up in a relieved smile.

I hated that this is the only thing that makes me feel normal again.

Teeth gnawed on my lower lip and tears streamed from my misty eyes, mirroring the red that streaked down my legs.

* * *

“Can we have another, Mira?”

“Coming right up!” I refilled the two pints of beer and carried them over to Macao and Wakaba. It had been a few months since I had asked the Master if I could work at the bar, and I think I really had the hang of this. It had been a rough transition, starting with having to explain that I couldn’t feel any of my she-devils anymore. Master had been sympathetic, but Elfman seemed to take it really hard. It was another thing that he felt guilty about, which made me feel even worse.

That had been the first night I began marking along my upper chest, specifically around the heart. Right where I should sense my souls.

My skirt swished around me as I travelled around the guild hall, delivering drinks and food. Though considered odd to everyone around me, I had taken to wearing long skirts and dresses since my sacrificial scars now covered me from my ribs, down my hips, around my thighs, crisscrossing my calves, and a single slice on the top of my left foot that was admittedly an accidental slip of the hand.

Everyone was laughing, surprisingly a fight hasn’t broken out yet, and I graced the members with my biggest smile. I’ve been faking smiles for so long that by now it was second nature. Once I started feigning joy for Elfman, I realized that keeping a smile on my face made everybody feel better. Making others happier helped to lessen the pressure inside me.

While carrying a tray of sandwiches over to Team Shadowgear, my foot got caught on a leftover broken chair that must not have been cleared out from yesterday’s brawl. I fell to the floor, the tray clashed against the ground, and the food landed all around me. A pained hiss escaped between my teeth when my knees collided with the hard surface, irritating some of my fresher cuts. As I picked myself up, my eyes widened as I looked around me. I could feel my pulse quicken. My throat bobbed with a nervous swallow, and I made myself chuckle.

“Sorry, guys,” I said. “Let me go get something to clean this up.” Once I was on my feet, I quickly walked to the supply closet in the back. My hand pressed against my chest, and bile rose in my throat. Sometimes the oddest things would bring back this feeling. I yanked up my skirts to reveal the garter I wore around my right thigh. Inside it was my sweet method of relief. I had to make this quick, though, so I swiftly made a couple of slices along my hip. Slipping the bloody blade back into my red garter, I held up my dress so that it didn’t come into contact with the cuts and found the disinfectant and bandages that I kept within this closet. The overpowering smell of cleaning products also helped to hide the scent of fresh blood, in the case of loud mouth dragon slayers. 

I dropped the skirt of my pink dress, grabbed a cloth and cleaner, and returned to the crowd with a fresh smile upon my face.

* * *

My eyes rolled upward as I tossed the letter away to the side. Dressed in my softest pair of black yoga pants and a large shirt I took from Elfman, I was spending my off day laying on our couch watching lacrima vision. At least I was until I got yet another request from Sorcerer Weekly. They’d been hassling me ever since I got off the active mission roster. I really don’t know what part of “my sister died” or “I’m not taking missions anymore” seemed to scream that I wanted to become a model, but I have been receiving a letter almost every week for the last two months.

The door opened and closed. I glanced from underneath the arm thrown over my eyes to see Elfman tossing his mission bag into his room. He’d been off on a mission for the last couple of days and I could see the scrapes and bruises from here. It didn’t seem like anything too bad happened.

Elfman wandered over and picked up the discarded letter from the floor.

“Another one?” he chuckled. I groaned in reply.

“At least you find it funny,” I said, sarcasm dripping from every word. My brother was silent, and I felt the couch by my legs dip as he sat by me. He patted my knee, and I felt a brief relief that my recent cuts have been further up around my breasts.

“You know, Mira,” Elfman hesitated. When he went silent, I lifted my arm and looked up at the Beast Arm Takeover mage. A faint blush painting his cheeks told me that the was about to say something embarrassing. “Maybe you should try it.”

I blinked.

My mouth opened but no sound came out.

“I just mean that...well, it’d give you something to do,” he explained, rubbing the back of his head. “Not that...not that you don’t do anything, it’s just...well...you know?” While I understood exactly what he was trying to say, it was a lot more fun to stare at him as he began to stammer trying not to offend me. “You spend all your time between working at the guild and being here, and I was thinking that maybe this could give you something new to do. Something that’ll give you a break from town or...or something.”

I couldn’t handle it anymore and started laughing. Wiping an imaginary tear from my eye, I held out my hand for the letter. My eyes scanned the page, and I let out a gentle sigh. Maybe Elfman was right. It could be nice to get out of town for a bit, plus he clearly wants me to.

I took a quick probe inside me.

They were still gone.

“Okay.”

* * *

Crocus really was a great city. It was so much bigger and busier than Magnolia. I wish I had more time to explore, but, thanks to a train delay, I was already rushing to make it to the headquarters for Sorcerer Weekly. I had a scheduled appointment with some guy named Jason and only a few minutes after meeting him I came to the conclusion that Jason is weird.

He’s a blond oddball that got way too excited over the world “cool”, but I guess he was annoying in a charming way. We had lunch at this cute cafe, and he went over the basics of the shoot they wanted me to do. It was all pretty simple. We’d start off with some pretty dresses or whatever and see how it went. Not only did that initial shoot takes several hours, but Jason and the crew were dragging me all over Crocus. I swore my legs were gonna fall off! We were talking about an early dinner as we got back to the main building when Jason suddenly tossed some clothing at me and shoved me into a dressing room.

“Try that on!” I frowned at the door before looking at the scrap of fabric in my hands. My face was blank, unsure how to react to the light blue bikini. Slowly, my gaze ran my legs, thinking about the multitude of scars that would be revealed in such a thing. The nerves started to act up again, and I reached under my skirt to feel the bare skin where my garter belt should have been. My breath quickened. I hadn’t wanted to bring it with me. I had thought I’d be able to make it just two days.

My nails started digging into my thigh. I want to, so badly. I want to rake my nails across my skin, to draw that precious substance. But I can’t. Not here. I had no way to clean it. No way to properly care for it.

Someone would see.

Nobody can see.

My sacrifice.

My guilt.

My weakness.

Someone knocked on the door. Checking to make sure that I was okay. I forced myself to take a deep breath and called back, “I’ll be right out.” Despite their shaking, my hands managed to get me changed. I took a short look in the mirror and, once assured that everything looked perfect, I opened the door. Based on the wide eyes and whistles, I knew I had impressed them. Jason ran his eyes up and down my flawless skin, though he seemed more like an artist with a muse than a creepy pervert. More assessing than admiring.

He approved and begged me to let him do a bikini photo op.

I let him. Afterall, it wasn’t everyday I had perfect skin and a slightly larger than normal bust.

I smirked. It’s a good thing my basic transformation magic still worked.

* * *

When the first pictures had first come out, I was showered with compliments, but all I had been able to see in those images were the marks that should have been showing. Later that night, alone in my room, I had scoured over each image, pointing out with my finger exactly what scar should have been where. The ones over my heart. Along the sides and beneath my bust. The clean columns along my ribs when I had first began. The criss crossing lines that covered my thighs and calves.

For the first time, the guilt that filled me concerned the cutting itself. Tears built at the corners of my eyes, spilling over to fall in drops onto the magazine, and my hand covering my mouth to hold back a sob.

I didn’t know who I spoke to, whether it was pitiful beg of understanding for Elfman, a prayer of forgiveness from Lisanna, or maybe I finally thought myself worth it, but the words choked out of my throat.

“Forgive me!”

After that night, cutting myself only made me feel worse. Poison would fill me instead of being released. Because of this, my hands have been shaking uncontrollable. I’ve been feeling more irritable, as well. I knew Elfman was noticing that something was off when he pulled me aside by the bar one day.

“Listen, Big Sis, I know that it wasn’t really your thing, but I’ve been meaning to tell you that I’m really happy and proud of you for giving it a try,” he said. “Sorry if the other guys are getting on your nerves because of it.” Ah. That’s what this was about. Elfman thought my recent frustration had to do with hearing all of the suggestive tones and flirtations I now received each day.

I took a long look at my younger brother, at the guilt that filled his eyes. My eyes softened, and I placed my hand atop his. Our eyes met. I gave him a gentle smile. A real one. It was the best answer I could give.

It was now months after we spoke, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t start to enjoy the change in people’s attitudes towards me. Seeing my bikini clad figure in the centerfold of Sorcerer Weekly had become a regular occurrence and the mages that had once looked at me with wary and then pity now gazed at me with lust and admiration.

I hadn’t even felt the need to mar my skin recently. The joy, however pervy it was, that I gave people from my pictures helped to keep the darkness away. 

* * *

This new girl stirred something within me.

Ever since she first walked in the door, there was a light that I hadn’t seen in a long time. She was very sweet, and even though she hadn’t been a part of the guild for a while, she obviously cared a great deal about Fairy Tail already.

Her name is Lucy. I was surprised to see how close she and Natsu had gotten in such a short amount of time. He’d become more of a loner ever since...my eyes widened. That’s what it is.

She reminded me of Lisanna.

I paused in my cleaning of a bar glass. It was towards the end of the day and many guild members have either left on a mission or gone home. Though it’s been a long time since it last happened, the shivers running up my arms felt as familiar to me as breathing. They were subtle, fairly simple for me to ignore, at least until I could get home.

When I finished the dishes and wiping down the tables, I gave the Master on the second floor a cheerful wave and headed home. Soft humming floated like a whisper amongst the streets as I strolled, the chilled night air breathing goose bumps along my arms.

There was a soft click when I unlocked the door.

“I’m home, Elfman,” I called, figuring he was relaxing in his room after the guild brawl. I flicked on the light in my room, shutting the door behind me, and knelt beside the end of my bed. I lifted up the corner of the mattress and pulled out my old razor blade. It hadn’t left its hiding spot for a long time. The metal glinted as I held it up towards the light.

My hand started shaking again.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. That always helped.

It had been so long. My fingers curled into the edge of my dress and pulled it up, revealing my calf.

Surely just one more time. The blade inched closer.

What could it hurt? It pressed against the skin.

This’ll be the last time.

I promise.

Just as I was about to put on that final ounce of pressure, her face appeared in my head.

_ ‘It’s not your fault.’ _

_ ‘All things eventually die.’ _

My throat grew tight, and my eyes burned. I dropped my head, my long hair spilling over my shoulders to curtain my face. The blade slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor just before thick arms circled around me. I shook my head and covered my face with my hands.

“It’s okay, Mira.”

_ ‘Everything will be okay.’ _

“I love you, Big Sis.”

_ ‘We still love you.’ _

 


End file.
